


Just Maybe

by winterscaptsam



Category: Marvel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 00:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19239865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterscaptsam/pseuds/winterscaptsam
Summary: 1940s!Sambucky AUIt’s the pre-war years, Sam Wilson is new to Brooklyn and his life starts to change when he meets Bucky Barnes.





	Just Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> \- Period typical racism  
> \- Bit of swearing  
> \- Sambucky being in love

He’s new to Brooklyn, he’s lived up in The Bronx with his sister Sarah after their parents passed. But a marriage and two children later, Sam was forced to move out. Wanting a change in scenery, air and people he decided on Brooklyn.

 

A one room apartment flat across a diner that played the radio everyday. He walked towards the diner, using his brown dusted flat cap to hide his face with hands in his pocket. 

 

Just as he put his fingers on the golden handle he looked up to see a sign, flashing bright red in block letters.

 

** WHITES ONLY **

 

He should’ve known, just as he was about to head home right next to the dumpsters, another sign caught his eyesight.

 

** COLORED ENTRANCE **

 

Walking towards the entrance, he opened the doors and was immediately bombarded by loud chattering and music. Different entrances but everyone sat quite close to each other, still segregated however. A white line split across the diner, an imaginary wall separating them. 

 

Sam made his way to an empty stool by the bar side, taking his cap off as he looked up to a women smiling at him. Curly black hair that reminded him of his sister, he smiles back as he reads her name tag, Clarity. 

 

“What can I get for ya, Sir?” Her voice loud and joyful,

 

Before Sam gets a chance to reply he hears a drunken shout from the other side of the diner,

 

“Hey! You people, can I some service over here?”

 

It’s none of his business, it’s a drunk white man whose staying on his side of the diner, he has no place to get involved. He straightens himself as he gets ready to reply- interrupted again as he sees the man walking towards the coloured side of the diner, stepping over the white line that segregated them.

 

“I said, can I get some fucking service?” 

 

Clarity stands behind the counter and stiffens up, her voice trembling a bit as she tells the man that he’ll get served by the workers on his side, he shouts again,

 

“I ain’t askin’ I’m telling you, negro.” His liquor breath scowled out at Clarity.

 

Sam, his tenses screeching in anger gets out of his seat and stands toe to toe, leveling the man who was only an inch taller than him,

 

“We ain’t looking for no trouble, sir. You stay on your side, we’re staying on ours” Sam’s voice calm as he tries to not let the anger get ahold of him.

 

“What you say to me, negr-“

 

The man’s voice interrupted by another, a blue eyed man walking up from behind him with a scrawny little blonde beside him. Sam’s heartbeat fastens as he thinks it’s even more people to deal with. He didn’t want to get into a fight the first day of being in Brooklyn.

 

“We got any problems, Miss?” The blue eyed man asked Clarity.

 

She shakes her head, still a bit shaken up and unable to reply, Sam replies for her. 

 

“Look, man. We ain’t looking for no trouble-“

 

“And I’m not here to give it” He interrupts Sam, his voice gentle as he speaks to him. He turns back to the drunken man behind as he tells him to walk away from the situation before it leads to some unwanted behaviour.

 

“Negro lover,” the man sneers out at him as he walks off. 

 

“They have names!” He shouts back to him before turning back to both Clarity and Sam.

 

“The names’ Bucky,” he says as he nods a smile at both of them. 

 

“Clarity.” She takes her hand out to shake his.

 

“Promise we’re not all ignorant bigots,” Bucky nods at them, kind smile forming on his lips.

 

Sam doesn’t say anything, just keeps looking at Bucky, into his ocean blue eyes. He’s seen a million blue eyes before that look back at him with hate and disgust, not Bucky though. His blue eyes look at Sam with a sense of acceptance and slight happiness.

 

Bucky is still stood behind the white line, his feet hovering over as if deciding wether he should step across to them, he decides not to. 

 

“C’mon, Buck. We’re gonna be late” the scrawny little blonde says as he pulls his arm to the exit out of the diner. 

 

Bucky .

 

Sam remembers the man’s name as he keeps it in his head the rest of the day.

 

Sam had saved up all his earnings that week, taking extra shifts down at the grocery store and even taking cleaning shifts. Whatever would get him those extra couple of cents.

 

He jangled the money in his pocket pants as he walked down to the electronics store, smiling to himself as it wasn’t a segregated zone he walked in to find himself in an isle of rotary phones and typewriters. Walking down a bit more he sees the isle of radios. 

 

He smiles, tracing his hands along the crisp brown details, wandering his finger tips to fiddle with the buttons as he switches it on.

 

_ \- the national broadcasting company invites you to listen - _

 

The mans voice screeching loud and bleeding into Sam’s ear drums he turns the volume down, taking a step back. Caught off guard by how loud it was, he hears a chuckle from behind him.

 

“Not exactly the type of voice you want in full volume,” 

 

He turns to see the man from the diner standing next to him. Bucky, he rememberers. 

 

“Bucky Barnes, from the diner the other day,” he takes his hand out to shake Sam’s. 

 

“Yes, I remember. Thank you...for that,” Sam nods at him, looking into his steel blue eyes as if trying to search for the hate he’s so used to receiving but all he sees is kind eyes looking back at him.

 

“Your name?” Bucky smirks out at him, 

 

“Sam, Sam Wilson.” 

 

“Well, Sam Wilson. You shoppin’ for a radio?” He smiles, turns his head back to face the line of radios in front of them.

 

“Whatever I can find,” Sam shrugs, looking at all the details and then the prices underneath. 

 

Bucky walks away to the end of the isle and picks up a small rectangular radio with a rounded top, two black switches placed on the dusted brown color of it, Bucky looks at it and smiles before handing it over to Sam,

 

“This is your recommendation?” Sam asks him,

 

“A table-top-wood. Best that there is,” 

 

Sam nods in appreciation, thanks him and begins to walk away to the cashier. He pays for his radio and makes his way to leave before he’s greeted by Bucky whose walking by his side. 

 

“Thank you for the recommendation,” Sam nods at him and then opens the door to leave.

 

Only to be followed by Bucky again, he’s not looking for any trouble and although there’s a part of him that trusts Bucky won’t bring him it, he allows himself to be followed by Bucky as they walk side by side on the pavements.

 

“You ain’t from here are ya? I could notice an accent from a mile away,” Bucky asks Sam, his eyes peering at the details on his face.

 

“No. I recently moved from the Bronx” 

 

“You miss it?” 

 

“Not a lot. It’s quite alright down here,”

 

Bucky shakes his head in slight laughter, “I’d give anything to move out this city. Maybe the Bronx, what’d ya say? Would I like it?”

 

Sam smirks a bit, “Depends on what you like”

 

Bucky smiles back at him, and something about his smile makes Sam’s heart flutter. He ignores the feeling and carries on walking, making sure there’s a distance between him and Bucky as they walk down the street. 

 

Bucky was used to helping Steve out of fights in downtown alleyways, normally being one punk who’d pick on his scrawny little stature but Bucky always had his back.

 

This time, it was a grown man who looked like he in his mid 30s with dark brown hair scruffy at the sides, Bucky was walking up behind him as he put a hand on the guys shoulder,

 

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own age?” His voice loud and confident-

 

He’s greeted by a punch, and the scrawny blonde jumping on-top of the dark haired man trying to tackle him off of Bucky but he shoved him off in one shrug and just as he was about to a place a punch to Bucky’s jaw-

 

“Hey! You got a fetish picking on men who aren’t your own size?” 

 

Bucky could notice that accent from a mile away, it was Sam. 

 

Dressed up nice in a suit and a flat cap, with a pocket watch hanging by his waist line, strolling towards the man who was off of Bucky and getting his hands ready to throw a punch at Sam, 

 

“You ain’t got no place here, run along lil man” he sneered out in disgust,

 

Sam just smiled patiently, “You know how much jail time you can get picking on a minor?” He says as he nods, referencing to the scrawny little blonde,

 

“I’m not a mi-“ 

 

“Shut it, Steve” Bucky nudges at him before he could finish off as he nods at Sam who carries on speaking,

 

“You haven’t got a place in these parts of the streets either, what are you gonna tell the cops when they get here in three...” 

 

The dark haired man just smirks, and just as he’s about to throw a punch, Sam ducks underneath his arms and knees him into his crotch. In absolute pain he falls to the floor as Sam just looks down at him and nods, “I said you haven’t got a place in these parts of the streets” 

 

“You all alright?” Sams voice a little worried asks as he pulls Bucky up from the ground and nods a smile at Steve whose looking at him in shock. 

 

“Uh, S-Steve Rogers, Sir. Thanks for the help” 

 

Sam shakes his head a little, “Just call me Sam” 

 

Bucky cracks a smile and slings his arm across of Sam’s shoulders, “You and I got a fetish of getting involved in each other’sbusiness, ‘haven’t we?” 

 

“Your heads’ bleeding” Steve points out to Bucky before Sam could reply, 

 

Bucky nods and looks Steve, “your nose is bleedin”

 

They laugh a little at their bloody state and a rugged up clothes, 

 

“I have first aid at home, just don’t get no mess on my carpets” 

 

Bucky smiles, walks alongside Sam as Steve joins them by the hip and ushers a thank you. 

 

It’s a small apartment, cosy enough for a one man house that is. A small desk with drawers next to the window, that’s where the table top radio sat. 

 

Steve got a tissue and held it against his nose, left straight after that. Bucky stayed, sat down on the sofa as Sam went to the kitchen to get him a wet towel for his bleeding.

 

“Can I turn it on?” Bucky asks, “the radio, I mean”

 

Sam nods, getting up and turning it to almost full volume, it’s speaker loud and going through their ear drums,

 

_ \- And now presenting to you a Walt Disney Production,the one, the only, the incredible...Pinocchio! In theatres near you by 7th February - _

 

“You got plans to see it?” Bucky asks as he sees Sam enter the room, bowl of water in one and towel in the other.

 

“I’ve never been to a theatre before,” he shakes his head as he places the bowl on the table and reaches out his hand to give the towel to Bucky, who looks at it and then back up at Sam.

 

Bucky’s voice close to a whisper, “my hands a bit limp...” 

 

His hand wasn’t limp. He just wanted an excuse to feel the softness of Sam’s hand as he cleaned the wound for him.

 

Sam trying to hide his smile, edges the towel into the water and dabs it gently against Bucky’s bloodied forehead scar.

 

“Do you just get involved in fights for fun or what?” He asks him, careful for his fingers to not make contact with Bucky’s skin.

 

“Often. But it’s always Steve whose getting up to no good,” 

 

“Often?” Sam raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Made a bet with the president,” 

 

Sam raises another eyebrow,

 

“...of the diner” Bucky carries on.

 

Sam, slightly interested “Go on...” 

 

“Two lads, sitting down by the bar. Picture it, stack of money just peeking through their pockets-“

 

“Don’t tell me you mugged ‘em”

 

Bucky laughs a little, Sams heart flutters at the sound of his laughter before Bucky carries on,

 

“Even better! Said that if I could guess the next two songs that were gonna play on the jukebox- they owed me it all,”

 

“So?”

 

“I won.”

 

“You cheated?”

 

Bucky smirks, “I still won.”

 

“How’d you cheat?”

 

“Steve and I planned it before we entered, I told him the records go pick, we acted like strangers, he chose the records, I guessed the song and the cash is ours”

 

Sam squints a little, “Wasn’t that simple though, was it?”

 

“Think the high-five I gave Steve straight after ticked them off,”

 

“You’re an idiot,” Sam cackles out a laugh.

 

“The one and only,” Bucky’s wink sends Sam’s heart beat to space and back.

 

Bucky looks up at Sam, his eyes reminding him the color of his favorite coffee, of the warm leather that keeps him warm in winter. Their eyes connect and don’t drift anywhere, Sam’s hands still placed on Bucky’s scar as their lost in eye contact.

 

Sam doesn’t want to look away, afraid he’ll loose the feeling forever once he does. But he has too, he coughs a little and straightens himself out.

 

“All cleared up.” He says as Bucky stands, causing Sam to take a step back so they weren’t so close to each other. 

 

“Thanks,” Bucky smiles.

 

“Anytime,”

 

“You sure? You’ll have me knocking on your door every two days” 

 

“If it comes with an interesting story then I don’t mind,”

 

Bucky raises a brow at Sam, “Then I’ll be sure to draft up a story interesting enough for you, Sam Wilson.”

 

Sam smiles, showing off his gap tooth as he’s cheeks show his dimples, Bucky can’t help but smile desirably at Sam’s look. 

 

Saturday mornings spent at the diner was Sam’s usual routine. He’d listen to the jukebox that was muted by peoples loud chatter and smelt the scent of caffeine as he drank his own. Always sitting at the edge, just where the white line segregated him. 

 

He felt a presence sit close to him, but far enough to know he’s not crossing the line he turns to see Bucky, smiling at him.

 

“Wanna make a bet?” He asks,

 

Sam grins, “if you guess the next song-“

 

“You come with me to the theatre Sunday night.” Bucky’s voice interrupts seriously.

 

Sam’s heartbeat quickens, he had to of been joking, he probably didn’t hear him right-

 

“What?” 

 

“Got two tickets to see Pinocchio, if you want.”

 

Sam stutters a bit, fidgets with his fingers around his coffee cup, looks around to see if anyone was listening in. Bucky raises an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. 

 

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea...” 

 

Sam thinks of the only and quite obvious excuse he could think of, Bucky knows what he’s referencing too and just shrugs, 

 

“I know a place. They don’t care who enters,”

 

Dammt. 

 

It’s not that he didn’t want to go with Bucky, it’s just that he’s grossly aware of his feelings towards him. The fast heartbeat, the nervous laughter, the staring for too long? It all adds up to one thing and that’s the fact that he likes Bucky Barnes. 

 

There were two problems with that.

  1. He tells himself he’s not queer to deny those feelings, he’d repeat it to himself every night.
  2. He likes a man, a white man nonetheless and that would only cause more problems.



 

“Okay.” Sam agrees.

 

Bucky smiles, “We’ll meet here then, 6pm?”

 

He’s stood outside there, waiting and waiting. Frequently looking down at his watch. It’s been 15 minutes and Sam still hasn’t shown. 

 

Maybe Bucky should’ve clarified with Sam he only asked because Steve cancelled, but then that would’ve been a lie. 

 

He remembered the day Sam cleaned up his wound, he remembers the man on the radio broadcasting the new Disney production, he remembers Sam telling him he’s never been to the theatre before. He remembers it all and he wants to be his first, his first of  many things.

 

“Sorry, I lost track of time!” Sam shouts out to a grinning Bucky as he runs across the street to greet him.

 

“Thought you wasn’t going to show up, Wilson!” Bucky tries to hide his relief.

 

It’s not awkward, it’s not supposed to be. At least that’s what Sam repeats to himself as Bucky slouches down on his seat next to Sam. At least that’s what Bucky repeats to himself when he feels the edge of their knees touch, he can’t help but look down at the sight of the contact. 

 

Bucky knows he’s not a girls typa lad. He’s known it since high school, he’s known it since the girls he took out and had no interest in them.

 

The adverts start for the movie, Bucky eyes wandering to the screen and then back down to Sam’s hands. Just focus, he tells himself.But he can’t focus, not when Sam’s sitting right next to him in a darkened empty theatre watching Pinocchio.

 

How ironic. They watch a movie about a boy who lies as they lie to themselves about their sexuality. 

 

Bucky moves his hands a little closer, 

 

_ \- Presenting to you, a Walt Disney special - _

 

Sam moves his hand a little closer,

 

_-_ _ Pinocchio! -  _

 

Their fingers touch. 

 

Soft and delicate, they could feel the aching for each other’s love by the smallest of touches as they grip onto each other’s hands.

 

“Bucky...” Sam’s voice whispers, making sure to be as quite as possible.

 

“I know.” He says, Bucky’s voice soft but audible. 

 

No, this isn’t right.  Sam thinks to himself, and in a sudden rush of movements he lets his fingers go off of Bucky’s warm touch and rushes out the theatre. Running into the empty streets, nothing but cars to heed the silence in his ears. 

 

He turns back and runs into an alleyway, tripping on some rocks he falls onto the mudded pavements with the smell of the dumpsters becoming stronger.

 

“Sam- wait!” 

 

He hears Bucky’s voice calling for him as gets up to see Bucky rushing towards him. 

 

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea!” 

 

He wanted this to happen, he just didn’t realize it’d be so fast and sudden. 

 

“I-I’m not gonna tell anyone. If that’s what you’re worried about...no one knows about me, I wouldn’t dream of telling them about us...” 

 

“Us?!” Sam’s voice spits out, almost in disgust.

 

“I just meant-“

 

“No, no! I-I’m not no queer, alright? I ain’t. I didn’t even-I’m not fucking-No!” Sam stops himself from speaking as he punches against the dumpsters.

 

His knuckles bruise from the force of the dumpsters.

 

“I’m not fucking queer!” 

 

Knuckles starting to bleed.

 

“It’s okay,” Bucky’s voice soft as he approaches Sam and holds back his hands from punching the dumpsters again.

 

“I’m not- I can’t- I...” 

 

Sam’s choking on sobs as he lets Bucky push him into a hug. Holding him up against his arms as Sam warms into his touch. 

 

“The world doesn’t need to know who we are, we don’t owe them that.” 

 

Bucky’s voice soft and comforting, there’s no point in denying what he’s always denied. 

 

He lets go of Bucky, stares into his blue eyes filled with sympathy. He takes a breath, lets Bucky’s warm hand cup his cheeks. 

 

“It’s okay,” he nods.

 

Their eyes locking into each other’s, their lips connect. In an instant, every worry and fiber disappears and it’s only them left in that moment. Soft and passionate, their lips intertwine within each others as their hands search for every bit of skin they can touch. 

 

Breathe.

 

The world around them disappears as all Bucky and Sam can think for that moment is being together, holding on to each other. Maybe when they open their eyes again there won’t be a line separating them and the world won’t be as full of hatred. 

 

Just maybe. 


End file.
